#How much is 3 in 1 Amber Leaf

[bestanimal]

Round 2 - Arthropoda - Protura

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

The Protura (commonly called “Coneheads”) is a group of crustaceans once thought to be an order of Insecta, but are now regarded as their own class. They are considered the most basal of the hexapods by some, and by others to not even be hexapods at all. While they have a hexapod body plan (a head, thorax with 6 legs, and abdomen) they also undergo anamorphic development, similar to myriapods, wherein they add a new body segment with each moult. There are close to 800 species, broken into seven families.

Not much is known about proturans, and they are considered uncommon, but this is moreso a result of them being overlooked due to their small size, less than 2 mm long. They live in soil, mosses, leaf litter, beneath rocks, or under the bark of trees in moist temperate forests. Their diet is relatively unknown, though they are fed fungi and dead mites in labs. Proturans have no eyes, wings, antennae, or pigment. They sense the world via their first pair of legs, which are covered in sensory hairs and held up, pointing forward. They have two false eyes (pseudoculi) with unknown function. They have mouthparts enclosed within their head, consisting of narrow mandibles and maxillae.

Proturans mate directly, rather than by leaving spermatophores willy-nilly, and both sexes will evert their genitalia to do so. They generally produce one new generation of offspring a year. Proturan nymphs hatch from the egg with 8 abdominal segments and a telson, moulting until the adult 11 abdominal segments are achieved. Further moults do not add additional body segments.

Proturans have no known fossil record.

(source)

Propaganda under the cut:

Some proturans are migratory; moving to deeper soil layers for the winter and ascending to shallower soil layers in the summer.

Like collembolans, proturans are important for soil health as they breakdown leaf litter and recycle nutrients into the soil.

Why do they have false eyes? Why don’t we have any fossils or proturans preserved in amber? Where did they come from? What do they eat? Who are they? WHY DO THEY HAVE FALSE EYES???

[stonesparrow]

Dcst Hunger Games AU pt.3

After training comes interviews, the last chance to gain sympathy for sponsors. And they do love a good drama, don’t they?

—————

Brody is not confident in Senku’s ability to not fuck up the interview, apparently. Gen however believes in him a little too much, Senku thinks. 

His stylist has dressed him in a dark green shirt with black pants and a black jacket, and insanely sharp eyeliner with his hair tied back again. The pants and jacket have a subtle leaf pattern woven into the fabric, which shimmers slightly in the light. Senku tugs at it self-consciously and thinks it’s probably worth at least two brand new tractors.

Taiju is dressed in a warm tan suit with a pink shirt and brown accents. He looks rather dapper, even as he’s sweating buckets. Before they go to sit with the other tributes, Senku squeezes his hand and Taiju looks gratefully at him.

Senku wonders how Taiju would have fared if he wasn’t here. And then resolves not to think about it.

They’re going in the same order that they did the meetings with the Gamemakers. Kirisame of District 1 answers all questions quickly and curtly. Her district partner Mozu however is confident and charming as all hell, at least, from the audience’s reaction. Senku personally thinks he sounds like a prick.

Nikki of District 2 seems intelligent and proud, but a little wary of having so many cameras on her. The boy Magma however loudly proclaims his plans to crush the competition with a wild grin, which makes Senku feel distinctly queasy.

Homura Momiji has a voice so quiet they have to adjust her microphone so they can hear her. When asked how she earned her score of 10, all she says is, “I made a fire.”

Well that isn’t ominous at all.

Even more concerning is the boy after her, Hyoga. Everything in his manner screams lethality, bloodlust, and a profound sense of calm that means he knows how he comes off to people and enjoys it. Interestingly though, while Magma only talked about his strength, Hyoga also highlights his intelligence. 

Which means he’s definitely more dangerous.    

Then it’s Kohaku’s turn. Her dress is quite pretty, white with glittering amber gems and a skirt that flows over her ankles, but Senku thinks it doesn’t suit her very well. Evidently Kohaku thinks so too, because after almost tripping over herself she glances down and calmly tears off a large portion of the fabric, to everyone’s shock.

“You know, she’s got to be pretty strong to do that,” Yuzuriha remarks. Everyone in the waiting room stares at her.

“Fabric is sturdier than it looks,” she says. “Especially with fibers woven together in a tight array like that.”

The tv host, Minami Hokutozai, quickly tries to recover. “My, Kohaku! That high training score of yours sure was well earned, it seems! Feeling confident in your ability to win the Games?”

“I dunno,” Kohaku shrugs, kicking her feet up on the couch and causing Minami’s eye to twitch. “There’s a lot of things that could affect the outcome of a battle. And sometimes it’s not even that you’re trying to win, you’re just trying not to lose.”

“And what would you say you’re trying to do here?”

Kohaku hums and picks at her fingernails. “Well, I guess I’m hoping you lose.”

The audience is dead silent. Minami blinks. “Come again?”

“Twenty-four tributes, but only one winner,” Kohaku says. “What a joke. Every year, there are countless losers, because the only winner is the Capitol.” She stares into the camera. “And it’s about time someone else knocked it off that podium.”

“THANK YOU KOHAKU!” Minami practically screams as Kohaku is quickly escorted off the stage. “Alright, next up!”

Before she can call the next tribute however, Kohaku takes off one of her high heeled shoes and throws it directly at Minami’s face. She shrieks and ducks to avoid it as the camera cuts away.

In the waiting room, everyone stares silently at the screen.

The boy from Five looks at Kohaku’s district partner. “So, is she always like that?”

He nods curtly. 

The interviews continue, with Minami relaxing quickly as the rhythm is reestablished. Senku and Taiju both sit up a little straighter when it’s Yuzuriha’s turn. She’s wearing a sunny yellow dress with a red scarf that makes Senku think of blood, spilling down her neck. 

Probably not the intended effect.

“So Yuzuriha,” Minami says, “Everyone’s been dying to know—why did you laugh when you were reaped? Were you nervous? Excited? Did you want to be chosen?”

The entire waiting room leans closer to the tv, not just Senku. Wow okay, seems like everyone really is curious.

Yuzuriha smiles sweetly and smooths down her skirt. “Oh I don’t know,” she laughs, a sound like tinkling bells. “I just thought it was funny, that’s all.”

“Funny, really?” Minami tilts her head curiously. “How so?”

“I mean just look at me!” Yuzuriha exclaims. “I’m the girliest girl around, I spend my days sewing and doing embroidery, seeing me in the arena would be like seeing a fish swimming in a desert!”

The audience laughs uproariously at the joke—they seem to love her. Minami giggles too. “But Yuzuriha, you earned a stunning 8 as your training score! Surely that means you’re not just a pretty face!”

“Well it sure surprised me too!” Yuzuriha says. “All I did was set up a simple hunting snare! I feel as though it must be some sort of fluke, or maybe I’m just experiencing severe imposter syndrome.”

She hums. “But you know, this could be a good thing! Maybe if I do well in the games, it’ll inspire other girls to believe in themselves too! I know there’s a lot of little ones back home eagerly waiting to see me on the screen, so I can’t let them down!”

The audience cheers, and Minami looks extremely pleased.

“A role model for young girls! What a noble ambition!”

“Damn, she’s good,” Senku mutters. “Bet they’ll all be clamoring to sponsor her, huh Taiju?”

Taiju doesn’t answer. He’s staring at Yuzuriha, and his cheeks are tinted pink.

Senku frowns. “Hellooo?”

Taiju yelps. “Oh! Uh, yeah, totally! Um, what were you saying?”

Senku blinks.

Hold on a second. 

Oh no. 

No no no. Noooooo.

Taiju does not have a crush on the District 8 girl. Because that would be disastrous. He’s already feeling bad about the little District 12 girl and the potential of her dying. And Yuzuriha is still mostly an unknown, with a training score of 8, the same as Taiju himself. 

If she realizes he finds her attractive and uses it against him—and she’s definitely smart enough to think of it—Taiju is dead. And Senku cannot let that happen.

“Taiju,” Senku says slowly. “You got your token?”

“Hm? Yeah, I got it,” Taiju holds up the locket. Senku opens it.

“Remember what you’re going to do,” he says quietly. “You’re going to see them again.”

Taiju nods. “…Right. Yeah. Yeah, I’m going to see them again.”

“You’re going to go home.”

“I’m going to go—wait no, that’s not quite right.” Taiju frowns. “We’re going to go home.”

Senku blinks. “Oh yeah, my bad.”

The next several interviews go by, and then it’s Senku’s turn. The stage lights are almost blinding as he finds his way to the couch and Minami shakes his hand with perfectly manicured nails and not a callus in sight. 

“How are you feeling tonight, Senku?”

He pauses to consider. “Kind of uncomfortable,” he says, tugging at his jacket. “I’m not really used to such fancy clothes.”

Minami nods. “You’re from District 11, right? I presume this is the first time you’ve ever seen such fine goods before?”

Senku holds back a scowl—she’s digging into the “rural backwater district” energy and he doesn’t like it. Gen said to roll with the punches though, so… “I mean, yeah,” he says. “Growing up in District 11 means most of our stuff is pretty simple.”

“The simple life is the best life, sometimes, no?”

Don’t punch her. “Sure, yeah, it’s…not the worst thing in the world.” You know, aside from the near constant starvation. He hesitates. Is he being too vague? “I mean, I’d definitely like to get home as soon as possible.”

“Oh?” Minami smiles warmly. “Anyone waiting for you back home, then?”

“…My dad,” Senku murmurs.

“Tell us about him.”

“Well. Uh.” Senku blinks. “He’s a mechanic, and he taught me everything he knows. He’s goofy and embarrassing and…” Senku inhales sharply. Come on. Like Gen said. He needs the sponsors. “And he’s always supported me no matter what. So I’m going to make him proud.” 

The audience lets out an awwww so loud it booms in Senku’s ears. He wants to throw up.

“That’s wonderful,” Minami says, looking close to tears. “Is it just your dad then? What about friends? Or…” she grins. “I bet a pretty girl like you is popular with the boys too! Anyone like that in your life?”

Senku blinks. He has no idea how to respond to this. She’d asked Kirisame the same question, and a few tributes from Districts 5, 6, and 9. All tributes who were considered conventionally attractive. He. Did not know he was considered among that group. Damn Gen, why didn’t he account for this!?

Fuck, he hasn’t said anything in like twenty seconds. Minami giggles. “Oh don’t be shy, you can tell us! You like to put on this cool front, but I know there’s a soft, sweet girl on the inside!”

Senku doesn’t know what to say. He’s never thought of anyone in that way, regardless of gender. But he has to say something—

“There’s only one boy in my life right now, but we’re not involved like that or anything,” he says, crossing his arms and looking to the side. Sheesh, and they call this journalism?

“Aww, really?” Minami says. “Do you wish you were?”

Senku opens his mouth, ready to snap at her that sometimes people are friends and that’s just as good or even better than romance and why is she talking to someone on death row like a gossip columnist, when Yuzuriha’s words appear in his mind. 

“They love stories like that.”

A story. Sponsors like stories. Especially melodramatic ones.

“He’s the most important person in the world to me besides my dad,” he says, and the audience awwwwws. It’s cacophonous.

More. More attention, more sympathy. Bleed. Them. Dry.

“That’s so sweet,” Minami gasps. “Was he upset when you volunteered to save Luna Wright, then?”

Gen had devised a story around this, actually. To paint Luna and Senku as childhood playmates, the wealthy socialite and the low-born mechanic working for her father, who learned to appreciate, not ignore, their differences in class and grew as close as sisters to the point where Senku couldn’t bear to let her go. 

All of this flies out of Senku’s mind as his thoughts are filled with Taiju, his smile and his laughter and his tears at the thought of harming another human being.

Before he can stop himself, the words spill out in an angry rush. “I didn’t volunteer for Luna, I volunteered because I wasn’t about to let him go into this hell alone!”

Minami is staring at her with an open mouth. Senku blinks.

The audience is dead silent. 

And then they start roaring with excitement. 

Ah, fuck.

—————

“It’s all anyone’s talking about,” Gen says, scrolling on his tablet as Senku paces back and forth in the apartment. “The aloof tomboy with a secret soft spot who followed the boy she loved into hell because she couldn’t bear to be without him.”

Brody, the traitor, is laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you actually did that! It’s brilliant! Those goddamn vultures ate it up like you threw them a fresh rotting carcass!”

“Shut UUUUP!” Senku screeches, tearing at his hair. “It wasn’t even my fucking idea, District 8 girl was the one who put the thought into my head!”

“And it’s a good thing she did!” Brody exclaims. “I was getting seriously worried about you having any chance of making it past the cornucopia, but with a stroke of genius like this? You might actually win!”

Senku blinks. “Wait, you were worried about me?”

“Senku, you bench pressed a total of five kilograms,” Gen said. 

“I mean I scored a seven,” Senku mumbles.

“For survival skills,” Brody points out. “Not for combat. Sooner or later you will need to defend yourself, and knowing that dandelions are edible won’t cut it.”

 “Um.” Taiju suddenly speaks up, and everyone turns to him. “Just so we’re clear? Senku, you don’t actually—“

“Absolutely not,” Senku says. “Don’t…don’t worry about it, okay? It’s all a part of the plan. You were charming and strong enough on your own to pull plenty of sponsors, but I can’t just mooch off of yours. So I’m using the lie about being in love with you to gain sympathy from the Capitol fuckers so they sponsor me too.”

The thing that’s worrying Senku the most right now isn’t actually the gossip or the embarrassment. It’s that the Capitol will want him to survive more than they want Taiju to. There are no happy endings in the arena where both can live, he knows that. And a star-crossed lovers story is oh so much more delicious if one of them dies in the arms of the other. 

“Oh, okay.” Taiju nods. “That makes sense. I trust you, Senku.”

He trusts Senku way too much, is what Senku wants to say. Instead, he just sighs.

Right after the “public love confession” moment his interview time had run out and Taiju was bundled onto the stage in his place. Taiju, who was still pretty certain that Senku cared about him in a purely platonic way, had answered with complete honesty that Senku was his best friend and that he relied on “her” to keep him calm while enduring the stress of the pre-game events. That he didn’t know what he’d do without Senku. Which of course, only fanned the flames of gossip loving idiots even more.

“So now what?” Taiju’s stylist asks. “We’ve got to follow this thread, right?”

“Absolutely,” Brody nods, suddenly all business. “You.” He points to Senku. “Are going to be so in love with this boy that it’ll make the coldest of Capitol hearts melt like butter.”

“But in a way that’s kind of endearingly abrasive!” Gen says. “You’ll call him insulting names but secretly smile at him when he’s not looking, oh, oh and pretend like you don’t care what he does but secretly look worried afterwards and fuss over him when he acts reckless!”

“He—uh, I mean, she kind of does that already,” Taiju says.

“Oh wow this really might work,” Taiju’s stylist says. 

“I hate all of you,” Senku deadpans.

“Even me?” Taiju asks.

Senku groans and smacks his own face. “No, not you.”

“Perfect!” Gen says. 

—————

Senku gets up earlier than he probably should. The sun is just peeking over the horizon of the massive city, bloated with wealth and crusted over with jeweled scabs.

There’s someone sitting by one of the enormous hotel windows.

Yuzuriha Ogawa.

She speaks before Senku gets halfway close to her. “Nice job in the interview.”

Senku blinks, then scowls. “Okay, what’s your angle?”

Yuzuriha hums. “What do you mean?”

“You know! Why did you suggest the melodramatic romance story? What do you possibly have to gain from this?”

Yuzuriha turns to look at him, head tilted sweetly with that strange, slightly off smile. “Well I don’t really know.” She taps her chin. “Maybe it’s because I felt sad that you weren’t planning on winning.”

Senku blinks. “Huh?”

“Everyone thinks Taiju’s the one who will protect you because of your rash decision to follow him in order to be together,” Yuzuriha says. “But you always intended on protecting him. He never learned a single weapon in training, but you did. You’re so smart, so meticulous, but everything you’ve done has been calculated for him, and nothing for anyone else, not even yourself. It made me sad.”

Senku just stares at her. “It made you sad.”

Yuzuriha nods. “I think out of everyone here,” she says, “you’d have the best chance of winning, if you actually wanted to.”

“I can’t win if Taiju dies,” Senku says quietly. She shakes her head.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says, giving him that mysterious smile again. 

“Then what the hell do you mean?”

Yuzuriha stands up to look him right in the eye.

“I said. That you’d have the best chance of winning.”

She leaves him as more people start spilling out into the building lobby, and Senku stares after her, brow furrowed.

—————

“I don’t need to tell you that the Cornucopia isn’t worth it,” Brody says. Taiju nods. “And I don’t need to tell you what to prioritize—we all know Senku’s got that covered.”

“So then what are you here for, you old bag of wind?” Senku asks crossing his arms. He sounds tired rather than annoyed—at this moment, he can’t find it in himself to muster up as much bite as usual.

Brody suddenly reaches out and puts a hand on both boys’ shoulders.

“I know I said you can only count on yourselves,” he says quietly. “But if you lose sight of each other in the arena, you’re both going to rot before the day is out. Do not let that happen.”

Taiju and Senku glance at each other, then back at Brody, nodding solemnly. 

Before their mentor leaves them, Senku stops him. “Uh, hey.”

Brody raises an eyebrow. 

Senku takes a deep breath and beckons Brody to lean down so he can whisper to him.

“If I die, I want to be buried as a boy,” he says. “Not a girl. I want everyone to know that, if it happens. Not just my dad.”

It’s the first time he’s said if to himself, not when.

Brody nods and leaves. 

“What did you say to him, Senku?” Taiju asks.

Senku looks at him. “Just a request to send a last message to the Capitol bastards.”

—————

He’s standing in an empty room with Gen and Taiju’s not here and there’s less than five minutes until he’s dropped into the place where he’ll take his last breath.

The clothes Gen dresses him in are similar to the training outfit, only with a hooded jacket over the top that has a dark green and brown mottled pattern.

“To break up your outline and camouflage better,” Gen explains. Senku nods. He understands the science behind it.

“Well. I guess this is goodbye.”

Gen nods. 

“Do try to be careful, will you?” He says. “What you do affects far more than just yourself.”

Senku blinks as the tube elevator shuts around him.

“Uh, okay.”

He starts to ascend. The glass medallion his dad gave him rests over his chest. Senku tilts it up to the light, and little rainbows scatter over his face.

Byakuya expects that the next time he sees his son in person will be to bury him. That Taiju will be the winner.  

He thinks about what Kohaku said in her interview. 

“The only winner is the Capitol. And it’s about time someone else knocked it off that podium.”

He thinks about what Yuzuriha said to him just a few hours ago.

“Out of everyone here, you’d have the best chance of winning, if you actually wanted to.”

He thinks about what Gen just said. 

“What you do affects far more than just yourself.”

He thinks about what his dad said, just before Senku left him.

“Give them hell.”

Senku came to the Capitol expecting to die. To become a footnote in the story of Taiju Oki, Victor of the 74th Hunger Games.

But Taiju wouldn’t be the victor, not really. The Capitol would be, and it would keep chugging along, eating up all in its path. And Senku would just be another corpse it plowed through, forgotten forever.   

Yuzuriha, Senku realizes, gave him an out. To become something more than just another victim of the Capitol’s game. 

So what is Senku going to do?

Light floods his eyes as he’s lifted into the arena, lush green blooming in front of him.

He’s going to win. 

[torchickentacos]

How I draw clouds since they’re my favorite thing to draw! Literally nobody asked for a tutorial but I’m making one anyways! Note, I am looking at a reference photo I took which is always recommended in my opinion, but once you get clouds down more you can pretty easily freestyle them. Want to go from a solid sheet of color on your canvas to having trees and shit? this is for you. 

Step 1: put a solid sheet of color down. maybe an ombre, airbrush tool is probably the best here. Try to have a canvas size with at least 1k on either end, be it horizontal or vertical. We’re going to want it to look really smooth, not pilexated. 

Step 2: I personally never start with white or the lightest color of the clouds. Clouds are pretty white usually, but there’s a lot of grey and blue generally-I like to start with the middle-leaning-darkest shade, like this. Use a waterfolor-y brush or something similar if you can! Just makes your life easier. 

Step 3: SOFTEN THAT BAD BOY. Get a blending tool and just go at it. Don;t make it totally flat-you’ll want darker, heavier, defined areas to work off of later when we do more lighting- but make it a lot smoother. 

Step 3: Next, decide what direction you want the light to be hitting from. This is arguably the most important part-choose a highlight color (sunsets are so varied that it doesn’t particularly matter as long as it’s fairly warm-toned), figure out where the light is coming from (where the sun is), and work off of that with some scribbles in a soft brush. A lot of times I would use a clipping mask for this but I’ve actually found not using one gives you a lot more control in this situation. 

ok cool! So, take where the lighting is- the squiggles- and add to them in a circular motion. Then take that and blend it, becoming smoother towards where the light isn’t. This LOOKS like I skipped a lot but it’s simple- add a light color, blend it backwards. The color will be strongest where the light is hitting it. 

Cool! Now choose a lighter color-your highlight- and define your highlights. This should overlap the lighter areas we just made!!!!! Don’t add the highlight to areas we haven’t already lightened! Or do, I’m not the boss of you, but it won’t look right. 

Now, we’re going to do the same thing we did with the light earlier- smooth it out, bring it backwards, keep it sharper where the light hits it. 

Cool! Except it doesn’t look right to me so I’m going to add a middle tone between the dark and the light. Our light is peach and our dark is a cool blue, so let’s add a cool red. I don’t know color theory, maybe that’s incorrect to do, but I’m doing it anyways. Much like music, I play art by ear- I don’t know technical stuff (I’m trying to learn), and I just kind of throw stuff at the canvas until it works. Slight red added. 

Highlight once more. 

Blend once more. 

Last step, determine if you want to add depth. I don’t always add shadows, but you definitely can to make it more.... depthy. 

YOU HAVE CLOUDS NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Optionally, you can add some perspective, which I can do right now. I’ll be lazy and use a branch brush. 

leaf it up in here!!!!

in a layer BELOW the dark red leaves let’s add orange, since the light would be coming DOWN. The dark red leaves that are shadowed would be closest to us. 

Rinse and repeat with amber and yellow until you realize you like it better with just dark red or dark red and orange oops. 

YOU HAVE TREES AND CLOUDS NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOO! We started here and now we’re here! Great job on your new trees and clouds!!!!!

[dontgofarfromme]

[ID: Eight screenshots of highlighted text.

Image 1 reads: "And you know that I love you, Fool. As a man loves his dearest friend. I feel no shame in that. But to let Jek or Starling or anyone think we take it beyond friendship's bound, that you would want to lie with me, is--" I paused. I waited for his agreement. It did not come. Instead, he met my eyes with his open amber gaze. There was no denial in them."I love you," he said quietly. "I set no boundaries on my love. None at all. Do you understand me?"

Image 2 reads: "He did mean you, did he not? Well of course he did, though you may not know it. I doubt you know the custom of the people he came from; how they exchange names to denote the lifelong bonds they form? Did you ever call him by your name, to show him that he was as dear to you as your own life? Or were you too much of a coward to let him know?"

Image 3 reads: "Not by me," he replied decisively. "If you insist we must both take different names now, then I shall call you 'Beloved." And whenever I call you that, you may call me 'Fool."

Image 4 reads: "There it is. Plainly, Fitz, I told you I set no limits on my love for you. I don’t. Yet I never expected you to offer me your body. It was the whole of your heart, all for myself, that I sought. Even though I've never had a right to it. For you gave it away ere ever you saw me."

Image 5 reads: Just as I opened my eyes, the Fool's thought uncurled in my mind like a leaf opening to sunlight. And I set no limits on that love. "It's too much," I said brokenly. "No one can give that much. No one."

Image 6 reads: He lifted his hand. "Did you feel that?" I asked him. He smiled sadly. "Fitz, I have never needed to touch you to feel that. It was always there. No limits." Some part of me knew that was important. That once it would have mattered terribly to me. I tried to find words. "I will put that in my wolf," I said, and he turned away sadly.

Image 7 reads: I bent and kissed his brow in farewell. And then, grasping the rightness of that foreign tradition, I named him as myself. For when I burned him, I knew I would be ending myself, as well. The man I had been would not survive this loss. "Good-bye, FitzChivalry Farseer."

Image 8 reads: "Take your body back from me," I bade him quietly. And so we passed, one into the other, but for a space we had been one. The boundaries between us had melted in the mingling. "No limits," I recalled him saying, and suddenly understood. No boundaries between us.

End ID]

We are one

[ironicfury]

RE8 Ladies of the Village and their “Signature Scents”

Inspired by a recent post by @ctitan98, I have researched and determined that the Ladies of RE8 wear the following perfumes. I’ve included my interpretation of their romantic and sexual preferences (no hetero!), as well as discussion of their personalities.

(1) Mother Miranda (grey-romantic pansexual)

Mother Miranda does not usually wear scents. As a scientist, she is keenly aware of how scents may interfere with her work, and thus generally avoids wearing perfumes or any scented body wash. Her daily scent is somewhere between a cross of Ecolab hospital cleaner and decay (cuz she’s a moldy bird). Her keen bird senses also make her more sensitive to smell. However, as a deity, Mother Miranda will occasionally deign to wear her signature perfume, Selection Verte, when forced to engage with others. A unisex scent released in 1901, Selection Verte was also worn by Freud and is geared towards “intuitive and insightful” individuals (aka - the master manipulator). It is an incredibly simple scent for a very complicated goddess.

Selection Verte / Unisex / 1901

Henry Creed Fourth Generation

Citrus Aromatic

Top Notes: Citruses, Neroli, and Pepper

Middle Notes: Mint and Herbal Notes

Base: Ambergris

 (2) Lady Alcina Dimitrescu (homo-romantic lesbian)

Cuir de Russie, or Russian leather, was an extremely popular scent at the end of the 19th Century and early 20th Century. This provocative and shocking perfume was specifically created for women who dared to smoke cigarettes in public, which many viewed as truly scandalous in that era. As a single woman smoking cigarettes and performing jazz in the 1930s, the Lady most certainly would have worn this scent both before and after her Cadou implant. Though now discontinued, you can be sure the Lady has bottles stored somewhere in her castle.  

The composition starts with aldehydes moderated by mild nectar of classical trio – rose, jasmine and ylang-ylang. The ending comes as smoky, animalistic note of dark leather. The main notes are orange blossom, bergamot, mandarin, sage, iris, jasmine, rose, ylang-ylang, cedarwood, vetiver, styrax, leather, amber and vanilla.

Les Exclusifs de Chanel Cuir de Russie 1924 / Women / 1924

Chanel

Warm Leather

Top Notes: Clary Sage, Orange Blossom, Bergamot, Lemon, and Mandarin Orange

Middle Notes: Iris, Ylang-Ylang, Carnation, Vetiver, Jasmine, Rose, and Cedar.

Base notes: Leather, Birch, Tobacco, Musk, Amber, Heliotrope, and Vanilla.

 (3) Bela Dimitrescu (demiromantic bisexual)

IMO, Bela is a transwoman who idolizes her mother, so she, too, tends to prefer classic, complex, and heavier scents. It certainly helps to cover the scent of blood and death that clings to her and her sisters (though, here, too, I imagine that Bela is a bit tidier than her siblings). Bela selected this perfume as soon as the Duke brought it by in 1955 and has refused to wear any other scent since.

Youth Dew / Women / 1953

Estee Lauder

Amber Spicy

Top Notes: Spices, Aldehydes, Narcissus, Lavender, Orange, Bergamot, Peach

Middle Notes: Spicy Notes, Cloves, Cinnamon, Rose, Ylang-Ylang, Jasmine, Lily-of-the-Valley, Cassia, and Orchid

Base: Incense, Tolu Balsam, Peru Balsam, Oakmoss, Patchouli, Amber, Vetiver, Vanilla, and Musk

(4) Cassandra Dimitrescu (aromantic bisexual)

In sharp contrast to her older sister, Cassandra disliked being forced to wear a perfume or cologne. When she finally bent to her mother’s demand that she “bathe more often or cover [her] putrid scent with something” before Mother Miranda’s visits, she selected a scent that reminded her of hunting in the woods after a chilly autumn morning. She now wears it almost daily, much to the relief of everyone around her.

Chypre Mousse / Unisex / 1914

House Oriza L. Legrand

Chypre (or Citrusy-Earth based scent)

Top Notes: Mint, Clary Sage, Fennel, and Green Notes

Middle Notes: Oakmoss, Galbanum, Angelica, Fern, Clover, Mastic or Lentisque, and Violet Leaf

Base Notes: Oakmoss, Vetiver, Pine Tree Needles, Boletus edulis, Vetiver, Chestnut, resins, Pine Tree Needles, Labdanum, and Leather.

 (5) Daniela Dimitrescu (panromantic pansexual)

Of all the ladies on this list, Daniela’s taste in perfumes is the flightiest – varying nearly as frequently as her taste in suitors. Generally, Daniela prefers sweet, sugary scents, which sometimes (frequently) clash with her disheveled, bloody look, petrifying castle staff even more (“How can someone be so evil and smell so sweet?!?”). Daniela’s current favorite perfume is a recent, limited-edition release called Strength from Andromeda’s Curse. She may have only picked it for its brand name...

Strength / Women / 2017

Andromeda’s Curse

Sweet

Notes of Coffee, Frosting, Marshmallow, Whipped Cream, Coumarin, Milk, Brown Sugar, Vanilla, and Chocolate.

(6) Lady Donna Beneviento (demiromantic demisexual)

IMO, Lady Donna Beneviento is the newest Lord in the village, so her perfume preferences are less dated than most of the ladies on this list. Given her powers with the yellow flowers, it is unsurprising to many that this Lady prefers a floral fragrance. Per Fragrantica.com, Poeme, by Lancôme is a

[c]lassic floral oriental fragrance launched in 1995. The structure of Poeme is original, does not follow classic structure of top, middle and base notes. The notes of the composition are appearing alternately, like echo. The composition features intoxicating Himalayan blue poppy, white and yellow flowers (mimosa, rose, freesia...) and vanilla flower. Poeme is a poem in the world of perfumes; the contrasts of bitter and sweet create a special sensual aura. The bottle with this miraculous bitter honey is a synthesis of the contrasts – attractive curves and straight lines.

Other notes include: Narcissus, Datura, Peach, Plum, Mandarin Orange, Black Currant, Bergamot, Green Notes, Tuberose, Ylang-Ylang, Orange Blossom, Jasmine, Heliotrope, Rose, Leather, Vanilla, Amber, Tonka Bean, Musk, and Cedar.

[fleckcmscott]

Way Back Home - Chapter 7

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Summary: Arthur married Y/N a year and a half ago. Now it’s time to meet her family in Missouri. Believing that building a life in Gotham had excised the pain of the past, Y/N accepts Mabel’s invitation to visit, unaware her little sister has hurdles of her own. What starts as a wish to connect becomes an exercise in old wounds. Y/N must choose to face them with Arthur - or alone.

Chapter warning: Adult situation

Words: 2,715

A/N: Thanks once more to @jokerownsmysoul​​ and @iartsometimes​​ for all their help massaging this into something readable! 😊

Downtown Boonville was a misnomer. Fountains were nonexistent, no monuments glorified long dead founders, the crosswalk hadn't been repainted since 1972. Main Street - the only street - ran a half mile long, flanked by two-story buildings, most wood, some brick, all with their best days behind them. The nearby mall, that death knell of convenience, had done a number on the town.

Athey's Hardware's and the Trading Post's doorways were a mishmash of broken glass and plywood. Big Pictures' marquee displayed fractured titles of older hits: ocky III, Of ice  and Gentl man, Last Un corn. Fogey's loitered at the corner, a bar whose entrance doubled as a cave even in the bright sunlight of late afternoon. A lone traffic light held domain until 6:00 PM, after which it gave up and flashed an apathetic amber.

But the sidewalks weren't deserted. Frayed American flag flying, the post office drew a steady trickle of customers, enough for Arthur and Y/N to be halted by an astonished "Y/N Thompson?" every twelve steps.

"It's Fleck now," she gently corrected, each repetition faster and faster until the sentence merged into a single word. Itsflecknow. Itsflecknow. She declined to go into any details about her and Arthur's life beyond a brief introduction. Kind and polite, she'd lead him away with the cheery assertion, "We've gotta go but it was good to see you. Gotham's great and we're great."

An assertion he was starting to doubt given her continued strangeness.

A frosted door caught Arthur's eye. Gold leaf Garamond listed "probate" and "foreclosure," terms he hadn't had any reason to learn, unlike "eviction" and "remand." Underneath it all burned the letters "Law Office of Jeffrey Thompson, Esq." Arthur squeezed her hand a little tighter.

Although Y/N divulging her divorce had induced an acute awareness of his own inexperience, resulted in a self-consciousness akin to finding a speck of spinach in his teeth after a must-see TV appearance, it'd never bothered him. Standing here in front of her ex's office - in the middle of town, double-paned display windows, freshly painted - a stich of inadequacy wove through him, a twinge in his left flank. This man had a title and prominence. Arthur had tricks out of a thrift store magic kit, notebooks filled with negative thoughts and amateur wisecracks.

She must have sensed his unease because she hugged his middle. "You're an expert witness in comedy, Mr. Fleck. That's much more fun." A bashful smile, the tuck of his chin as the salve of her sweetness soothed the twinge to a prickle. Right then and there, he threw an arm around her shoulders, the other about her waist, and dipped her to plant a messy kiss on her cheek.

When they finally stepped into Saul's Drugstore, Arthur felt the kind of gladness that springs from booking a new gig. Better than he had since he'd seen Y/N sidle to the porch without a word but with plenty of strawberry left on her shirt. Spotted the telltale pink puffiness of her eyes, had his concerns and attempts to hold her dismissed with "it's just silly sisterly things, nothing to waste your worries on."

How could it be any other way when his beloved was about to take him on what she'd advertised as an old-fashioned date?

Candy and canned goods, pill bottles and bandage boxes filled the shelving unit in the center of the shop. A wire gondola carried the latest paperbacks, everything from bodice rippers to suspense novels, replete with covers to tingle tangle the most jaded spine. By the cash register, matchbox cars and sports cards tempted children and cigarettes tempted parents.

Their destination was the soda fountain to the left. Red and chrome stools harkened back to a time he'd seen on black and white sitcoms, an era in which, according to Penny, girls acted like ladies and boys treated a woman right. ("Like Thomas Wayne. He's such a good man.") Perching on a seat across from the bar mirror, Arthur studied the row of taps and toppings. He ordered a root beer float once Y/N was settled at his side.

The serving was far too large. Ice cream dribbled over the lip of the frosted glass, all over his hand. He grabbed a napkin and two straws, stuck them in the fizz and foam. Their noses nearly collided when they bent to drink, a cliché that brought on the kind of grin he associated with pillow talk. Warmth swept through him. This outing was a drastic improvement from yesterday's trip to her family's swimming hole.

Making love on a beach had been a lasting fantasy. Ever since he'd tuned into From Here to Eternity on GBC after a late shift filling dumpsters at Pelican Arms, a hotel serving Gotham's most desired clientele (who never, ever tipped). While no waves spilled on the shore, no crests crashed into them, the sandbar had been private. If they were ever going to do it outside, this was their chance, surrounded by oaks and elms rather than pigeons and bag ladies. Y/N must have wanted it, too, considering how quickly she'd pushed the crotch of her bathing suit aside to accommodate him.

Laying there, however, sand silky and squishy beneath his back, something had shifted. Gone was her usual enthusiasm, her scrunched face and greedy cries of keep going, you feel so good. Fervid authenticity had been displaced by flat expressions, detachment lurked in subtle undulations. For the first time, it felt like she was doing him a favor.  

When he'd tried to put her palm over his heart, she'd withdrawn her hand. When he'd reached to stroke her center, she'd dragged his fingers away. He'd groaned that her black and teal one-piece made him crazy. She'd responded by telling him she wanted him to come - that she wanted it to end.

He couldn't and it did.

Stirring the float with his straw, he debated how to broach the subject of whatever was going on with her - or if he even should. After all, when Y/N and he had met, she'd respected his space. Allowed him room to grow into comfort. But this was different. They were married now. Comfort was supposed to be the norm. Wasn't she supposed to drop her walls and confide in him? That's how he'd always imagined it, what every love song he'd memorized promised.

"You know that scar on my foot?" Y/N asked, halting his train of thought. Her thumb tapped a black and white photo on the front page of the Boonville Bugle. There was a picture of a municipal pool and two proud men in hard hats. "I got it here, scraped it on a broken tile. It bled so much. I hid in a changing booth until my mother coaxed me out."

"I can't imagine you hiding from anything."

Her gaze lost focus, mouth agape in a manner that felt like admission. Once again, she was the woman on the porch. He splayed a firm hand on her back, a request for the confidence he sorely missed. For her to help him understand.

But she batted his forearm with the newspaper, rebuilt her invisible wall of secrets. "It's a long fall from that pedestal you put me on. One day you'll wake up and realize you had me all wrong."

"Y/N Fleck?"

Startled, Arthur's stare shot to the owner of the smooth, friendly voice.

An older version of the man in the prom photos sauntered forward. His suit was a small town's idea of expensive, shoes worn at the seams. Half a foot taller than Arthur, Jeff was as broad as a barrel. His salt and pepper combover provided enough coverage to loan him dignity instead of embarrassment. Though Y/N had described him as lacking spontaneity, his round face was relaxed, jovial. He had the look of a man who never stopped smiling, a man who'd won at life.

His conventional good looks made Arthur shift in his seat. That she'd had a whole other existence planned, a path he wasn't a part of, had remained a nebulous detail. As sudden as a kick to the chest, it was now as concrete as unvarnished truth.

"Leave it to you to be the only one to get my name right." Y/N sprung from her stool for a long hug. Arthur fidgeted with his empty belt loops. She patted Jeff's back collegially. "How've you been?"

"Good, good. Mabel said you'd be in town. I saw you admiring the new office, just moved in last month. How's life in the big city?" He pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket to clean his double-bridged glasses.

"Much quieter, since no one knows who the hell I am." She adjusted her skirt and gestured towards Arthur. "This is my husband, Arthur. Arthur, this is Jeff."

Arthur tightened his calves on a one-two-three count. What was the right way to handle this? Problems with exes were not usually a topic on Dr. Sally's radio show, and he couldn't recall one talk show segment called Help, I'm Meeting The Old Flame. The flash of heat at his throbbing temples annoyed. He didn't want to cause any trouble, not when Y/N already had too much of it. Pasting on a happy face would be best. Mouth stretched into a pencil line, he gave it a go.

After seven seconds of Arthur sitting as stationary as a wedding cake groom, Jeff extended his brawny hand.  "Let's make this easy. Y/N and I split in the sixties, and I remarried first."

Relief washed through Arthur's right pinky, enough to lift himself four inches to accept the handshake. He swallowed and nodded, uttered a soft hello, nice to meet you, even though it wasn't, then reached into his jacket to grab a cigarette. He lit up and tuned out. Tried not to think about how Y/N had had an entire alternate future planned with this lawyer. That the same quirk of fate that had put Arthur in his circumstances would have resulted in her spending her life with Jeff. If things had gone a little bit differently, if Jeff had put his hand on her shoulder at a needed second, everything could have turned on its head.

She never would have gotten a job in Gotham. Never would have moved to the big city. Never would have bumped into Arthur. Never would have kissed or touched or loved him. She would have stayed a Thompson forever.

But when Jeff asked about her job, she enthused about her firm's labor cases, said it was a specialization she couldn't have found in a small town. She spoke of Gotham the way Jeff bragged about his sons' good grades, detailed Arthur's work with the pride of a woman who'd married a Big Deal. Satisfaction tipped the corner of his mouth. Using both their straws, he took another long drink of root beer, swished the bittersweet liquid through the hole left by his missing premolar.

Having politely cooed over a photo of two boys in sweater vests, Y/N returned Jeff's leather wallet. Just when it seemed she was about to wrap up their conversation, send him back work so they could continue their rendezvous, she excused herself to the restroom, scurried off before either could stop her.

Jeff perched on her empty stool - a little too close for Arthur's taste - gaze fixed in the direction she'd gone. "Quite a woman, huh?"

Knees a couple of feet apart, Arthur did his best to imitate Jeff's easy posture. He leaned on the counter. "She is."

"I remember when she moved, running on adrenaline. She couldn't wait to get out of here." His voice lowered, wistful and melancholy. "It's good to see her happy. She deserves that, after everything she went through."

Arthur cocked his head. Though she'd given him a basic outline of what'd happened - her mother had died and she'd taken care of her father - details were far and few between. Apart from a couple of asides when they'd first gotten to know each other, she'd kept it close to her chest. And he'd allowed it, a decision that'd also had the convenient side effect of not upsetting her. But now he had a chance. Information he'd longed for was being offered on a silver platter, plated instead of sterling. Would it be wrong to take it?

He flicked his cigarette in the red plastic ashtray. "What do you mean?"

"Christ, she hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?"

Jeff braced a hand on his leg, stimmed his fingers on his thigh. The click of a tongue behind sealed lips. A heavy exhale as their eyes met. "Agnes was diagnosed with ovarian cancer around the same time Henry started to go downhill. She was gone so quick - it would've given anyone whiplash. Y/N had already found a lead in Central City, an opening in the DA's office. She had her resume all typed up. But she had to quit that to take care of her father."

Glancing at the restroom door, he continued, leaning closer. Arthur didn't move back. "Y/N sacrificed a lot. Too much. I told her that. But Mabel was still broken up about their mother and with the kids and Ed working around the clock... Y/N was the oldest and he'd raised her. She thought it was the right thing to do. She called me once in a while, whenever she couldn't get ahold of Ed. I always knew it was her - my wife would go 'Jehffffff...' Henry was a dead weight when he'd fall. Y/N was all alone. Every time I saw her, a little more of her light had left."

Alone. Y/N had been alone. That wasn't a word Arthur ever would have associated with her. She had relationships, a family. She interacted with others with ease. All her life, he'd thought friends and people had cared about her. Her school yearbook had proven how well liked she was. How on earth could all that have faded away?

He'd started caring for Penny as a teenager, had been the man of the house for as long as he could remember. Circumstances that had been thrust upon him with the dispassionate cruelty of chance.  Suddenly, he realized Y/N had been through that, too. She'd told him once she knew how hard being a caregiver could be, had offered empathy instead of pity. But he hadn't understood she'd been as stuck here as he had been in Gotham.

Gratitude flooded his veins, dizzying in its wake. It was repugnant. He'd never wish his darkest days on anybody, much less his wife. But there was undeniable solace in the affinity, in knowing she might understand what it was like to be alive but not live. Was it that commonality, besides their mutual attraction and kindness, that had allowed them to connect so quickly? His conscience bucked against the comfort in that question, for it was as unwelcome as an eviction notice delivered in a red envelope.

His chest constricted, a familiar feeling he'd had in the bathroom at Wayne Hall. Right before he'd been slugged in the face. "I- I hadn't heard." The grooves of his forehead deepened.

"Don't believe a word he says." Y/N's footsteps cut through the noise in his head, approaching until she slung her arm across Arthur's shoulders. "It's all hearsay, anyway."

Jeff chuckled. He stood and straightened his tie. "I've gotta be getting back to work. It was great to see you, Y/N. And to meet you, Arthur. Don't wait for the next Christmas card to fill me in." With that, he turned on his heel and left.

Arthur studied her. How much pain had she buried - and why had she shut him out? Why hadn't she let him console her so he could be the man she needed, the man he needed to be?

She brushed a stray lock from his forehead. "What is it?"

At the content quirk of her mouth, the questions he'd crafted fell away. She appeared happier than she had in days. It would be a mistake to rob her of it. He pecked her nose and feigned a wide smile. "Nothing. I just love you."

~~~~~

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[cudan2]

One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell. 

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of  #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation. 

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,” Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna.  She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?” 

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today.  However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor. 

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.” 

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

[thunderpot]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 4.2 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 & 9

“So how about this? Early 2000s, very stylish, a bit of an Interview with the Vampire flair but with a tad more decadence.”

“Uh..I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“You’re right, how about we do something more momma’s boy, maybe?”

“Shippou this is kinda…”

“Okay, okay, tough crowd you are I see.” The fox would change his glamour again and then try very badly to hold a laugh “This is…”

“What? Let me see!”

“Oh god, Inu--”

Inuyasha snapped the hand mirror Shippou was trying to hide from him just to see himself and throw it back at his friend:

“I’m gonna fucking KILL YOU, YOU BRAT!!!”

Shippou laughed, half running around in his room

“SHE WILL LOVE YOUR NEW STYLE INUYASHA WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!”

“Undo it!!”

“ARGH ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” He stopped, hands raised “Sit up, I’ll make things ok this time, normie” 

Inuyasha showed him a finger before sitting down and seeing shippou grab his new necklace

“Shouldn’t this leaf go on my head?”

“This is the 21st century, everyone would notice a leaf on top of your head- Specially a silver one like yours. So turn into a necklace and ta-da! Insta-fashion.” The ‘poof’ would happen shortly after and inuyasha would look at himself in the mirror again. “So? What do you think? I’m amazing, just say it!”

“This is.. Certainly different. Do you think she’ll..?”

“Just go, dogboi! I can’t hide all your features though, so those tattoos of yours will stay. Watch out not to flash them too much in public, eh?”

And with a nod, Inuyasha left.

----------

It had been a couple days since she had seen the cute dog in the park at night, but Kagome had soon forgotten about it. The university had been quite demanding; she had another paper to deliver in a couple of days, and that was all she could think about, the white-haired guy starting to fade away from her mind.

“Don’t forget to check out our sales tasting! The best cheese and the best sausages for a fraction of the price, only this week!” said the voice on the speakers while Kagome made her way to the  vegetables section.

She had been neglecting her own diet thanks to all the crunch hours needed to write the papers, but now that she had a bit of time, a properly cooked meal instead of instant ramen felt like a small blessing. The place was so full, however, that Kagome honestly questioned whether she’d ever be able to get out of the place after having gotten in.

“Some stuffed bell peppers sound good..they look pretty today, too” She casually checked out on her phone the ingredients for a recipe Sango gave her a while ago. She needed wine, some beans, tomatoes, peppers, onions and a couple extras for seasoning that she had at home. 

Grabbing a plastic bag to put her choosings, she was almost done when an old lady bumped into her, making her drop the bag as she bumped into someone else too.

“Oh I am so sorry!” She said as she quickly crouched to grab her poor vegetables. At least most of them were still safe inside the bag.

“Ah, let me help you out with that.” the voice came right in front of her. It was beautiful and kinda deep, probably the person she bumped into. 

“No, no, that’s ok I can--” Her voice died down quickly as she felt something like a small static shock when her hand inadvertently touched the other person’s “Ah..” 

And then she looked up.

“Such a waste, these looked very fine. At least the majority is still intact...”

“Damn, he’s hot.”

The guy gave out a small laugh.

“Aren’t we all, on such a hot day.”

Kagome’s face went as red as one of the bell peppers inside the bag. Did she say that out loud!?

“I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to--! Oh wow, way to embarrass myself.. I’m so sorry!” 

She looked everywhere now, except to the guy, that made no case of it, helping her out with the bag. And only when they were standing again did she quickly remove the hand she kept on top of his.

“Uh- I, hum.. Thank you.” She was mortified. God, she just found a cute guy and she had to embarrass herself like that. At least Sango wasn’t there to laugh at her face for the next 20 years.

“No worries. Cya around.” He said as he turned to go away, and only then Kagome finally had the courage to take a good look at him, her face still burning like wildfire.

“Cya...” He was big alright. Yes, he was. Hot, that was a good word for it. But his most striking feature was probably the silver-ish hair. She had seen that before. There was something about him..What were the colors of his eyes again? 

“Wait!” -She pulled his sleeve without thinking, revealing  two, maybe three rounds of tattoos on his right arm, to absolute horror of another old lady that was passing by, and a small curse of an old man doing his groceries. 

She had seen that before, for sure. Maybe she WAS going crazy. As he turned to face her she could see, for a split second, a shimmer before his amber eyes looked back at her. Oh god.

There was a multitude of white-everythings bumping into her, finding their way to her. There was something obvious missing, but that was no coincidence, was it?

“Ah, I’m sorry but hum.. I’m Higurashi Kagome. What is your name again?”

It looked like the guy took a split second decision before gently taking his sleeve out of her hand and covering his arm again, answering her with a small, unreadable smile.

“Nice to meet you, Higurashi. I’m Inuyasha.”

Shit.

[bored-storyteller]

how would Jack, Azul, and Idia react to an S/O who kisses them randomly throughout the day in random places like head, cheek, hands, etc. also i love ur blog 🙇‍♀️💕

Here it is, I am not sure what structure I gave to this, but anyway, three kisses to each one! So they don't fight. And there is Idia. My favorite is Leona, but I swear I'm loving writing for Idia.

22- Twisted Wonderland - Azul, Jack, Idia x s/o

Azul Ashengrotto

1- The first kiss is in the morning. Before the lessons begin, when the corridors are a forest populated by students, Azul feels himself being taken by the hand for a moment, as if someone wanted to attract his attention.

He is not surprised to see the eyes of s/o looking at him, but when he is about to ask what they want, they simply raise his hand, and bringing it to their lips they gently kiss his fingers.

That sudden gesture paints Azul's face red, but before the confusion leaves him to clarify the situation, the bell at the beginning of the lessons makes them run away.

2- Classes that morning are difficult for Azul. It is difficult for him to concentrate, because the thought of the sweet, unexpected feeling of that morning is always present. Also, the amused smiles of the Leech twins at lunch certainly don't help him relax.

He waited for lunch for a long time, to be able to see his s/o and to be able to clarify with them, but he did not see them at all. Neither in the cafeteria, nor in the garden, nor in the Mostro Lounge.

Sitting on a bench, he seems to have given up on having to wait, until a new, strange sensation makes his eyes widen.

A slight pressure, warm and sweet, rests just behind his ear. A kiss.

When he turns his head confused, he meets the sweet smile of s/o.

"W-What ...?!"

Again, a bell interrupts the moment, leaving him alone, with his desperate face hidden in his hands.

3- The third kiss comes in the evening, when Azul is alone in the Monster Lounge. S/o enter with a genuine smile, after a whole day of study away from him, and with a light greeting he approaches the boy, kissing his cheek with love.

At that point, in the solitude of the place, despite the red face Azul dares to speak.

"I never asked for this. All this affection."

They simply smile, chuckling, while their arms surround his waist.

"I know, it's that I like you very much."

And there at that spontaneous demonstration of love, Azul cannot help but sigh, holding his precious s/o close to him, while they kiss his neck affectionately.

Jack Howl

1- The first kiss is on his shoulder.

Jack and s/o are quietly doing a research in the library, they absolutely must finish it by the weekend.

He is leafing through a book he has just taken off the shelf, when s/o's sweet lips rest casually on his strong shoulder.

Jack, being the boy he is, he can't help but panic. His hard face turns completely red, contrasting with his silvery hair.

"What- What are you doing ?!"

But s/o's attention seems to have already returned (apparently) to the book they hold, and when they look up at him at his exclamation, their gaze is questioning.

Oh shit, did it really happen or did he just imagine it? With a little embarrassment and disappointment, Jack returns to what he was doing.

"Nevermind ..."

He mumbles with a deep sigh.

2- The second time he is sure he hasn't imagined it.

He did not imagine the lips of his s/o on his cheek. They are sudden and elusive, but today they lean on him without him being able to foresee them, as if he were a prey.

Again with his hot face he turns quickly to s/o, as if he wants to eat them, too embarrassed as he is.

He is about to speak, but his breath hangs in his throat to see their back turned towards him, in the distance, while they search in the library shelves humming carefree.

Now, with a slight pout, from time to time he glances at s/o. Even if he would never admit it, he loves cuddles.

3- In the late afternoon, the brain of a poor student who is busy with research from lunchtime can't take it anymore.

With a sigh Jack closes the book, and stretching his tired muscles he turns to s/o sitting next to him.

"We could go eat something ..."

He mumbles, looking at them out of the corner of his eye. S/o smile, happily nodding to the proposal.

Closing the book with a snap they get up, and with a natural gesture they bend down to kiss Jack's head, right between his soft ears.

Okay, now he has seen it. Slowly his golden eyes rise to go and look at their smiling face. The amber skin of her cheeks once again brightens, but she is trying to control herself as much as possible.

"What was this for?"

He asks, earning a sweet little laugh from s/o.

"Oh well, I want to protect you."

Oh ok. No, he certainly cannot control himself now. He could swear he had a fire inside.

He jumps out of his chair, growling to hide all his embarrassment.

"I don't need protection!"

S/o laugh happily. He is so cute when he blushes like this.

"I know, but it doesn't matter. As you protect me every day, I also want to protect you."

Well, he's sure he's burning now.

He runs a hand over his desperate face. How can he resist such sweetness? Jack is a nice guy, and very strong. Of course he will protect such a good creature in that cruel world.

S/o laughs, while Jack's face hides in their shoulder to hide himself, but also to smell their perfume.

Idia Shroud

1- Idia tries to move as little as possible. The less it sets foot in society the better it is, without a doubt. He is grateful to be able to have his dearest creature next to him in the moments available without necessarily having to meet her outside his dorm.

Yet there are cases in which he is forced to set foot in society, for example at a particularly important lesson. And in addition to having to be face to face with people, he is also forced to see everything with which s/o are constantly in contact even in his absence. It is easier for him to trust them when he does not see how much they love that world.

S/o know it and they see the sad expression that is painted on Idia's delicate face, yet they don't feel sad.

Gleefully they approach him and without saying a word grasp his sweatshirt slowly, to make him bend slightly.

"See you at lunch."

They murmur, kissing the tip of Idia's nose.

Oh goodness, what are they going to do to this poor boy? He is not used to this in public, at all. It must be red like a strawberry. But at least the melancholy has been driven away by its terrible embarrassment.

2- The second kiss is probably even more embarrassing for him.

Idia is waiting s/o in the most isolated and shady corner of the garden. Sitting on the ground with only Lucius dozing near his ankles, he sincerely hopes that they will arrive as soon as possible with lunch, partly because he feels safer to have them around, partly because he is really hungry.

When he finally sees them arriving in the distance with the two paper bags he cannot hide a shy smile.

"Sorry if I'm late!"

They reach him, their red faces for running.

They sit next to him and immediately hand him the lunch packet, but as soon as the smell of food reaches Idia's nostrils, his stomach growls greedily requesting to be filled.

"S-s-sorry…!"

This is the first thing Idia can say, while he looks in shame at the surprised face of s/o.

But if at that moment Idia would like to disappear into the bowels of the earth, the gesture of s/o petrifies him. With a light and amused laugh they bend over his lap, and playfully they leave him a kiss on his suffering stomach.

The breath disappears from Idia's throat. Now he no longer feels an empty stomach, but full of fluttering butterflies. He does not know what a strange day it is today, but he is sure that he will die before the end of it.

3- Idia never has the courage to speak too much, not even in front of the sweet attitude of s/o. But in the evening, when they take him back to his room, he finds their lips resting on his chest, before goodnight.

"What is all this for, s/o?"

The question comes out of him spontaneous, probably because of the complicity of tiredness.

Only when their gaze questions him does Idia regain his social incapacity.

"l-I didn't mean to say ... that is, I don't mind ... but .. here ..."

They smile, shaking their heads cheerfully.

"I'm just glad you're here with me."

They simply answer to him.

Idia says nothing, just stares at them. Then, with a mechanical gesture, he grabs their wrist, to pull them against him. His red face now hidden in their hair.

"... ok."